


all the ways to say "I love you"

by we_are_the_same



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: A Collection of Drabbles, AU, Canon, Every chapter is a standalone, Gen, M/M, and features different couples, every drabble has a different setting, set in different universes, so this isn't a WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_the_same/pseuds/we_are_the_same
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles, written based on the theme of "100 ways to say I love you", inspired bythistumblr post. Every chapter will have its own setting, sometimes canon, sometimes au. Not every chapter will feature the same couple, or the same type of love. I'm just having fun with this! If you want me to do a particular number off the list, feel free to ask me!





	1. Louis/Harry

  
**16\. It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.**  


_ I could really use a hug _ , Harry types, stares at the words, the cursor blinking. He glances at the top of the screen, at the information displayed underneath Louis’ name.

Last seen: yesterday at 11.47 PM. 

A quick glance at the clock tells him it’s currently 2:13 in the morning. Louis is probably asleep. As Harry should be. He has to be up early. But he’s been tossing and turning for hours, sleep eluding him. It might be because he doesn’t want tomorrow to come. 

He knows it’ll come regardless of whether or not he sleeps, he’s not a child anymore, but no matter how hard he tries, his brain refuses to shut off.

He erases the words, thinks of putting his phone on the bedside table and curling up around his pillow, but the mere thought makes him want to cry. 

_ Louis? _

His lip trembles when he presses send, and he’s not sure why he’s even texting him, just knows that he needs. Something. Anything. He needs to not be alone right now. Which is shitty, because texting Louis, knowing he won’t get a reply, it’ll just make him feel even more alone.

The heavy, hollow feeling in his stomach just gets worse, and there might be actual tears in his eyes by the time his phone buzzes in his hand.  _ Hazza? _ It reads,  _ what are you doing up? _

Harry bites his lip.  _ I can’t sleep. _

_ Dreading tomorrow? _

The reply coaxes a small, thankful smile. What would he do without Louis? Without his best friend in the entire world?

_ I’m not ready to say goodbye. _

He doesn’t have a choice, he knows that. His grandmother is gone, funeral or no funeral. But once the funeral’s over, then she’s  _ really _ gone. It may be weird how his sixteen year old brain is making that distinction, but buried dead grandmother seems so much more final than knowing she’s still there, in the funeral home. Knowing he could still see her face, still kiss her goodbye one last time. 

_ What if I cry when I have to sing? _ He texts him, that worry gnawing at him. That he won’t even make it through the song without crying. That he’ll fail her somehow.

_ It’s a funeral Hazza. No one is going to blame you for crying _ , Louis texts back. Damn him, for always being so logical. He pouts, wants to send back something petulant, but he’s far too grateful that Louis is awake, is there for him the way he’s always been. Maybe that’s why he presses send.

_ I need a hug. _

Louis’ reply is instantaneous.  _ Do you want me to come over? _

_ Can you? _

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. It’s late, they should both be sleeping. But he can’t make himself send those words. Can’t write out  _ no it’s ok, you should get some sleep _ . Instead he stares at his phone, watches Louis’ status change from  _ online _ to  _ is typing _ . He’s not sure he’s even breathing.

_ On my way :)  _

Harry exhales shakily, lip wobbling before he bites down onto it.  _ Thank you _ .

_ It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway. _

 


	2. Liam/Zayn

**41\. Go back to sleep.**

He loves nights like this. Wrapped up in each other, not a care in the world. The dog snoozing nearby, TV so low it’s mostly images. Liam’s head pillowed on his shoulder, his hair tickling his throat when he moves. Closer. Liam always moves closer, whether he’s asleep or awake. Zayn loves it. Revels in it, the way he’s done for years. Long before this. Before Liam and Zayn became LiamandZayn. 

Before the house. The kids.

He drops a kiss onto Liam’s hair, laughs softly when Liam’s response is to wrinkle his nose and twitch his fingers, like he’s searching for Zayn’s hand. Zayn gives it to him, of course. Let’s Liam tangle their fingers, barely awake. 

“C’mon babes,” he urges him softly. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” Liam’s only response is a sort of disdainful sniff. Zayn loves him so damn much. “C’mon jaan. It’ll be more comfortable.” He tries again, chuckling when Liam reluctantly untangles himself from Zayn, looking lovely and sleep rumpled. 

He has to pretty much steer him through the hallway and up the stairs, isn’t sure Liam’s even bothered to keep his eyes open, and by the time they make it to the bed Zayn is pretty sure that he’ll be fast asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. He envies him sometimes. As fatigued as he can be, sleep never comes easy for him. Sure enough, he’s still awake hours after Liam cuddled up to him in his sleep.

When he finally does doze off, warm and content, it’s not long before a soft cry wakes him. He can feel Liam stir next to him, their daughter’s distress obviously enough to rouse him too. 

Zayn sighs softly, rubbing at his face. He starts to push himself up into a sitting position, but Liam stops him, fingers gentle when they press him back against the mattress. A soft kiss brushed over his lips. “It’s alright, I’ve got it. Go back to sleep.” 


	3. Zayn/Louis

**23\. I'll wait**

Zayn bites his lip, thumb hovering over the call button on his phone. It’s shaking a little, no matter how much he tries to convince himself that there’s no need to be nervous. He’s a good liar, but not  _ that _ good. There is reason to be nervous. Which is sad, really. There were times when he wouldn’t have thought twice about calling him. When he knew that no matter what happened, he could always count on him. He hadn’t ever thought there’d be a future in which that’d be different. In which he’d be so terrified.

He knows that a lot of it is his fault. Knows that maybe he should’ve tried harder. But at the time he hadn’t been able to make a different decision. At the time it had felt like he  _ had _ to leave, no matter the cost.

But things are different now, for both of them, and Zayn misses him. Misses all of them, really, but he misses the easy way it could be between them. He misses the talks with Harry and the way Liam would hug him and the way Niall never failed to make him smile even on his darkest days. But he misses everything about Louis, even the way he’d get under his skin. Even the way he could frighten Zayn at times, knowing that once you were at odds with him it was almost impossible to be forgiven.

Doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try though. No matter how much time has passed. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to be alright with a future without Louis in it, knowing he hasn’t tried absolutely everything.

Calling him is a frightening prospect though, so he opts for a text instead, even if that sort of feels like the coward’s way out.

_ Hi, _ he writes.  _ Um. I know it’s been ages, but, do you think we could talk? I’d really like that. _

He reads over the text, bites at his bottom lip. Adds  _ this is Zayn by the way. _

He puts his phone down then, manages about an hour of not looking at it, too scared to read a reply. Too scared that there won’t be a reply to read.

When not knowing finally feels worse than looking, he picks his phone back up, cigarette trembling between his fingers. It might be his sixth this hour, he’s not sure. He stopped counting after he chain smoked the first three. 

Louis has replied, Zayn’s heart feels like it’s in his throat, he can barely swallow. He wonders if Lou will yell at him. Will tell him never to talk to him again. His fingers are shaking so badly that it takes him two tries to even unlock his phone, navigate to the message.

_ Didn’t expect to hear from you, _ the message starts.  _ Right now really isn’t a good time.  _ Zayn’s heart sinks, even when he's told himself over and over that he shouldn’t get his hopes up.  _ Maybe later. I’ll get back to you. _

He bites his lip, heart leaping, stubbornly optimistic even when he sternly tells it not to. It’s not a yes. But it’s not a no, it whispers. 

He texts back.  _ That’s ok. I’ll wait. _


End file.
